Of Hope and Loss
by Stacey M. Powers
Summary: A continuation of my AU story "Claire's Boys". This story begins on the third anniversary of 9/11.


Of Hope and Loss

By

Stacey M. Powers

Author's Note: I do not own these characters of course, they belong to Anthony Zuiker and Co. This is a continuation of my AU story "Claire's Boys". For the background and timeline of this story, I suggest you refer to that one. For the purpose of this story, I'm presuming that the events of Season 1, Episode 1 of CSI:NY began on the third anniversary of 9/11. For those of you who read and reviewed "Claire's Boys", I thank you and I hope that you enjoy this story as much.

September 11, 2004

He stared at his folded hands, the slanting midday sun shining through the amber window and glinting off his gold wedding band. He came here every day to pray that today would be the day they would find her. She'd been missing three years now. Three years today in fact. Today was always hard for both of them. The husband and the son she'd left behind. Some small part of him still held out hope that they would find her alive. But every day, every year, that part seemed to get smaller and smaller and the despair dragged him deeper and deeper. Mac was a detective and crime scene investigator with the NYPD, and before that, he was a detective with the Chicago PD. He'd done his best to prepare both Claire and Reed for the possibility that he may not make it home one day, but no one had ever prepared him for the possibility that Claire might not. As a crime scene investigator he dealt with death and the ones left behind every day. Before that fateful day three years ago, he never understood the shock and pain people felt when they said; "I never thought it could happen to us". Now he knew. Now he hurt too.

Still, life goes on. In June of 2002, less than a year after Claire was lost, Reed graduated from High School, and that fall, he started college. He decided to attend Chelsea University so he could stay close to home and close to Mac. Even so, Mac insisted Reed live in the dorms. He knew it would be a much more in depth experience for the boy to live on campus. Reed kept to his earlier plan to major in journalism. Every Sunday, he went to Mass with Mac and the two of them would spend the day together. Between Reed's coursework and Mac's job, both were very busy the rest of the week, but they knew from the most horrible experience possible that time spent together was very valuable.

Mac didn't know what would have happened to him if he didn't have Reed. Reed was devastated and angry at the loss of his mother especially in such a violent and senseless manner, but he knew that regardless if Claire was alive or dead, she would be disappointed if he let those emotions rule his life and let them stop him from achieving the goals she'd wanted so badly for her only child. So Reed worked through his pain in his own way, studying twice as hard in school, graduating Valedictorian of his class, aggressively pursuing admittance to the college he wished to attend and securing a place on the Chelsea University Newspaper. Also very much like his mother, when Reed wanted something, he would go after it until he got it.

Still deep in thought, Mac was startled when his phone vibrated in its holster on his hip. Glancing at the display, he saw a characteristically economical text from Detective Don Flack summoning him to a crime scene. Mac sighed and rose to his feet. He genuflected in the direction of the altar as he exited the pew and then made his way down the aisle to the great double doors. He couldn't help but look at the bowed heads around him and wonder how many people were remembering those they lost on that terrible day.

Later that night, Mac entered his apartment. He was bone-weary from the emotions the day and the case he was working had dredged up.

Reed looked up from his laptop.

"Hi. Did I forget something?" Mac asked his son.

"No, just really noisy at the dorm tonight so I thought I'd bring my stuff over here to work." True enough, but not entirely so. Reed knew that his Dad would have a hard time today. He always did.

"Oh. Okay. Well don't let me disturb you. I was just going to get a shower and read a bit before I went to bed. Did you already eat something?"

"Yeah, I had some leftover lasagna from your fridge." Reed smiled, and then his smile faded at the look in the older man's tired green eyes. "Mom made the most amazing lasagna." Reed thought to himself.

Claire had made great lasagna. "Yeah, Stella made that. She thinks I don't get enough to eat."

Reed knew that his father's closest friend and colleague had made a very astute and accurate observation. He didn't get enough to eat. He didn't get enough sleep either by the looks of him.

"Well, go ahead with your plan Dad. I've got a long night ahead of me."

"Okay."

Mac entered his bedroom and shed his tie and suit, hanging them both in the closet and tossing his shirt in the dry cleaning bag. He grabbed a USMC tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants out of his dresser then went into his bathroom to shower. As he stood there under the stream of hot water, his thoughts wandered back to the women from today. The case was deeply disturbing even to a veteran detective like Mac. He was constantly horrified at the things of which human beings were capable. Mac leaned forward until his forehead was resting on the tile of the shower. It took him a moment to realize that the water dripping down his face was not from the shower, but from his own tears.

He had no idea how long he stood there, but the water sluicing down his back cooled and he became conscious of a banging on the bathroom door.

"Dad? Dad are you okay?" Reed sounded panicked.

Mac became aware that he must have been in there an awfully long time. He turned off the shower. "I'm okay Reed. I'll be out in a minute."

There was a long pause. "Okay."

Mac heard Reed's footsteps fade away. He stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Dressing took more effort than it should have and as he exited the bathroom and shuffled down the hall to the living room, Mac realized that his legs felt leaden.

When Reed looked up from the book he'd been staring at more than reading, and took one look at Mac, he became doubly alarmed. The younger man was off the couch like a shot. "Do you want me to call Stella?"

Mac looked into Reed's eyes. "No, I just need to sleep."

"Yeah, you do. But you won't."

Mac's brows lowered over bleak green eyes suddenly grown suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"Come on Dad. I know that you don't sleep well even when you do finally drop from exhaustion." Reed glanced down at Mac's left hand then his eyes rose once more to meet those of the man who'd been his father in all the ways that mattered for more than ten years. "She's been gone three years now…"

"Stop it!"

The pain and anger in those two words were like a slap in the face and Reed actually stepped back.

"Not today Reed." Mac insisted through clenched teeth.

"Not today? Not ever! You won't talk about her! You won't talk about life without her! You won't let me or anyone else in! I miss her too Dad! I need to talk to you!"

"We talk all the time!"

"We talk about everything else but not about her! Not about what happened!"

"It hurts too much! Are you happy now! I can't open that wound up to anyone!"

"Not even me?"

"Especially not you!"

"Why not?"

"Because…" Mac shook his head as if denying his thoughts, his feelings.

"Because…What Dad?"

"Because if I talk about it, it'll mean she's never coming home." Mac's voice broke on the last word. He dropped to the sofa and buried his face in his hands. Then, with an astonished Reed looking on, the normally self-contained man he thought he knew fell to pieces. The anguished cries sounded as though they tore at Mac's throat. Hot tears streamed down his face and his shoulders shook convulsively.

Reed sat down next to his father. Laying a hand on Mac's damp hair as Mac had done for him so often Reed began to make soothing sounds. Reed knew his mother would never come home. He felt it that day, that horrible nightmarish day. He knew that no matter where she was, no matter what had happened to her, if Claire still had breath left in her body, she would have found her way home to her family.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the storm was over and Mac raised his face to that of his son…Her son. "I know it sounds…" Mac's voice was raw.

Reed shook his head. "You know she wouldn't have been gone so long."

Mac thought back to Ivanov's final victim. "If she could help it." He sounded so desperate. Reed's heart ached for him. "She's gone." He stated simply.

Reed nodded, tears in his eyes. "She's gone."

The two people Claire Conrad Taylor love best in all the world embraced and the tears they cried were those of grief and loss, but also of acceptance.

The End


End file.
